


Edgar Allen Poindexter

by poindexters



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Mutual Pining, Role Reversal, bitty gives really good advice, dex writes poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2016-08-13
Packaged: 2018-08-08 11:50:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7756798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poindexters/pseuds/poindexters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dex groaned around another mouthful of pie. He was okay with hopelessly pining as long as it didn't involve writing poetry about his fellow D-man. That was something, Dex thought, he'd never be desperate enough to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Edgar Allen Poindexter

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing dex/nursey so I hope y'all like it!

“I just don’t know how to tell him Bitty… I don’t think I can,” Dex moped into a slice of cherry pie. The kitchen was empty but for the two of them, the radio music fading out only to be replaced by the booming voice of Kiss 93.5’s afternoon show host. Bitty’s apron was spotted with flour and cherry filling.

“I know what Nursey would do,” Bitty said. Dex gave him a suspicious look. “I mean, if he were in your situation.”

“I’m not writing a damn poem,” Dex said, “if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

“No need to get all hot and bothered about it,” Bitty chirped turned towards the oven. “Just might help to speak his language, is all.”

Dex groaned around another mouthful of pie. He was okay with hopelessly pining as long as it didn’t involve writing poetry about his fellow D-man. That was something, Dex thought, he’d never be desperate enough to do.

                                                            ~

Dex stared disapprovingly at the screen of his laptop. It was late afternoon, and he’d come to the library alone. A new document sporting approximately zero words stared him down. It wasn’t that Dex couldn’t articulate how he felt, it was that no matter how hard he tried, his words came across more like a business email than a declaration of love. He wasn’t the poet, Nursey was.

 _Just write something you tit-bag_ , Dex thought, mentally slamming his head into a wall. _Something, anything!_

_‘Your eyes are like fall skies, they’re kinda grey. I like you a lot, please have a good day.’_

Fuck.

“What am I doing…” For maybe the hundredth time that week, Dex found his head in his hands.

“Looks like you’re writing poetry, Poindexter,” came a voice directly behind him. Dex jumped. “Really bad poetry too.”

“I don’t need your criticism, Nurse.”

“How about my help?” Before Dex could interject, Nursey pulled out the chair beside him, sliding the laptop across the table as he did. Dex looked on in horror. He thought about grabbing the laptop out of his hands, but that would only draw more attention. In one swift move, Nursey deleted Dex’s crappy line and began to type. For a moment, Dex was mesmerized by his hands: his fingers, fast and strong, against the keyboard. Nursey knew what he was doing when it came to words. In real life he was the kinda guy to trip over a pebble, or spill his cereal in someone’s hair. (Ransom, Holster, and Shitty all had to drag Dex off of him for that one). But Dex had heard his poetry before. Samwell’s English department hosted slam nights on the first Friday of every month, and Nursey had invited the team to watch him perform on multiple occasions.

“Rumor has it he’s got the hots for a lacrosse bro,” a girl with short black hair had drunkenly told Dex during a kegster. “That’s why he writes so… longingly.” She clutched her chest, pretending to swoon. Or, perhaps, actually swooning. It was hard to tell when it came to Nursey.

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s it,” Dex said, downing his drink and looking for an excuse to get away. He was trying to remember who was on Nursey patrol when it happened.

Across the room, Nursey slammed his hip into the pong table sending cups of beer flying. A massive guy who took the worst of the spill on his white Lacoste polo shirt reared his arm to take a hit at Nursey. Within a matter of seconds, Dex shot across the room, decking Polo Shirt before he knew what was going on.

“Unless you want some blood to go with that beer, I’d be running,” Dex wasn’t someone to be fucked with, on or off the ice.

“And that, dear children, is how Samwell’s 6 foot 5 star rugby player ran screaming from the Haus,” Shitty appeared behind Dex, patting him on the back approvingly before reaching a hand down and pulling a very drunk Nursey up from where he’d fallen to the floor.

“Where the fuck is Chowder?” Shitty scanned the crowd, passing Nursey’s weight onto Dex’s shoulder. “Shark boy’s gotta be fined for neglecting Nursey patrol.”

“Thanks Will,” Nursey slurred into Dex’s neck. His breath was hot against his skin; their mere proximity making Dex’s heart beat in double time.

“Come on Nurse, let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, half leading, half carrying him towards the door.

Once they reached Nursey’s dorm, Dex lay him down on the bed, making sure to prop him on his side in case he threw up. A moment later he went rummaging through his bag for a bottle of water.

“Take a sip of this,” he said, handing it to Nursey who promptly spilt it all over his shirt. Dex sighed as Nursey stripped off the wet clothing. “You’re a mess you know.”

“I’m actually the best ya know,” Nursey said, putting emphasis on the word ‘best’.

“Whatever you say, hotshot,” Dex grabbed a blanket from the end of the bed and draped it over his fellow D-man.

“Yur the hot sauce,” Nursey slurred.

“Yes, I’m the hot sauce, now go to sleep, okay?” Dex ran a thumb across Nursey’s forehead. His eyes were already beginning to flutter shut. When Nursey didn’t say anything, Dex got up to go.

“Wait, Will…” Dex stopped with his hand on the doorknob. “Stay with me, please.” Dex’s face softened.

“Okay, Nurse,” he whispered.

                              ~

“Dex?” Nursey was staring at him, eyebrows raised across the open laptop. “Dex, you in there buddy?”

“What? Oh yeah.” Dex blinked the remainder of his daydream away, focusing on the sound of Nursey’s voice.

“I’m done,” Nursey said, sliding the laptop back across the table. “Your only descriptor was grey eyes, so I ran with it. If you stick with a central theme it’s easy to tie all your different ideas back together.” Dex began to read.

“If you want to try writing something again, I can give you pointers,” Nursey bit his bottom lip. “So, um, who were you writing about?”

Dex didn’t answer. Once he’d finished reading, he began to type. He wasn’t a poet, but writing words couldn’t be much harder than writing code, and Nursey had given him an idea. After a moment or two, he looked up at Nursey and smiled. All or nothing.

“I love you grey,” he began.  
“I love you thunder storms and age worn leather and rain. I love you in between the lines, where things aren’t black and white, and where, no matter how many times you fall I’m always just a call away. You know I never liked my name until you told me to stay.” Nursey’s eyes widened with the last line. Dex wasn’t sure if he remembered that night. When they woke up the next morning, Nursey was curled into Dex’s arms. He looked calm in the early light, features relaxed, curly hair mussed from sleep. That was the tipping point for Dex. That’s when he knew he loved this boy.  

“Nursey, I-” but Nursey was gone, the legs of his chair scraping loudly against the library floor as he bolted.

~

“What the fuck was that about?” Dex jogged down the library steps after him, messenger bag bouncing at his hip. He kept his pace brisk, but Nursey was faster and kept a few steps ahead of him. “You just can’t run off like-”

“You’re in love with me?” Nursey spun on his heel and Dex nearly ploughed into him.

“Don’t say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you can’t think of anything worse.” Now it was Dex’s turn to storm off, if only Nursey hadn’t grabbed him by the wrist before he had the chance.

“Dex, it’s not… it’s not like that, hear me out,” but Dex had already wrestled his wrist away.

“Fuck you, Nursey. Do you think this is easy for me? I’m sorry I’m not like you. I can’t write, I’m not creative, and I’m _definitely_ not beautiful. I just thought that maybe… I don’t know what I thought,” Dex sighed, “forget I said anything.” He averted his eyes and began to walk away. Nursey stood watching, mouth open. Not a second later Dex turned to face him again. “Actually!”

Nursey closed the last couple of steps between them, pressing their mouths together before Dex could start shouting again. All the anger and tension Dex was holding in his body melted away against his touch. It felt like that sun-drenched morning they woke up wrapped in each other’s arms. Dex had class at noon, but for once in his life he didn’t care. Next to Nursey was the only place he wanted to be. When they finally broke apart, Nursey’s eyes were so close.

“I love you grey, Poindexter,” he said. “In fact, I think you’re the most beautiful person in the world.”

 


End file.
